


Perpetua Silentia

by LadySlytherin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-26
Updated: 2012-06-26
Packaged: 2017-11-08 15:29:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/444671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySlytherin/pseuds/LadySlytherin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A birthday present for the amazing Cheryl Dyson, containing just a few of the things she adores: AS/S, smut, bondage, and mute!boy. <3</p>
<p>Actual Summary: How do you tell someone you love them if you can't speak?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perpetua Silentia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dysonrules](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dysonrules/gifts).



> A/N: So...this is the present I've been laboring over for Dyson. Cause she's awesome and I love her. It's AS/S, NC17, and...passable, lol. It's far from my best work, though the plot (which came out of left-field and broadsided me) is really awesome. The sex scene is...okay. Again, far from my best work but not too bad. I'm just something of a perfectionist, lol. A huge thanks to Courtney, who pre-read most of this (everything leading up to the sex-scene) and who spent an anguishing half-hour or so debating the merits of various Latin words with me in an attempt to come up with the perfect title for this piece. It means, roughly translated, "Unbroken Silence"...but there's no precise word for "Unbroken" so it's actually literally "Perpetual". Ah, well. Hope you like your present, Dyson! And anyone else who read it, lol. Comment and let me know! <3 ~ Lady Slytherin

The moment he was born, Lucius Malfoy declared his grandson, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, to be the perfect Malfoy heir. This was high praise indeed, considering that Draco had not even earned such a compliment. Especially not within seconds of being born. But then, Draco had been born a red-faced, screaming, squirming mess. Scorpius, however, entered the world - in his mother's very large, very luxurious bed at Malfoy Manor - without making a peep. Not even a whimper of discontent, though he was just as red-faced and squirming, his tiny face scrunched up in displeasure and his little lips pursed into an already-adorable pout. Had any child ever been born with such superior control before? None of them thought so.

 

It wasn’t until their son was several months old that Astoria began to worry. Scorpius was a very happy child; he was calm and peaceful most of the time. His care was primarily left to the House Elves – especially at night – which was probably why it took her so long to begin to suspect that something wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t natural, she thought, for a child to _never_ cry. And yet, somehow, that was how things were. Scorpius _never_ cried. He never wailed or screamed or even whimpered his displeasure. Draco tried to calm his wife’s fears by telling her that Scorpius being such a calm, quiet baby was a _good_ thing. They should be grateful he didn’t cry all the time.

 

So Astoria struggled to push her fears aside. She succeeded, for the most part, for several years. And each time she suggested bringing her son to see a Healer, Draco would demure. Nothing was wrong with his son, he insisted. Nothing. Scorpius was practically perfect in every way; anyone with eyes could see that. She only brought up seeing a Healer in front of her father-in-law a single time. Lucius had been so coldly furious that Astoria had fled, fearing for her very life. It was heresy to suggest that anything was _wrong_ with Scorpius; such treasonous words were not tolerated.

 

When Scorpius was nearly 4 years old, Astoria broke. She sobbed all over Narcissa, begging her mother-in-law to help her smuggle the child out to see a Healer. And Narcissa agreed, because she knew something wasn’t right as well. Even Draco had begun to look worried; his grey eyes studied his son more intensely with every passing day. Scorpius still did not cry, but that was not what worried the adults in his life. It was all the other things the little boy didn’t do that had them so concerned.

 

Scorpius did not laugh. He smiled; quite frequently, the little boy’s perfect cupid’s bow of a mouth was curved upwards in amusement while his light grey eyes sparkled with mirth. He frowned when displeased or thoughtful, his eyebrows drawing together and creasing his forehead while his lips pursed. He could pout and make ‘puppy-dog eyes’ like no other; his “wounded” look would soften even the hardest of hearts in the merest instant. But he never cried, nor laughed, nor spoke. He did not sigh, nor whimper, nor whine. No sound passed the little boy’s lips; only breath.

 

Because Draco, for all his own worrying, still refused to acknowledge that something might be wrong – and Lucius was willing to hex anyone who even looked like they might be thinking something wasn’t right with Scorpius – Narcissa and Astoria had to be sneaky. It took them quite a while to find the perfect opportunity to carry out their plan. They waited until both men left for a business meeting at the same time – about 3 months after Scorpius turned 4 – and Flooed to St. Mungo’s. Narcissa quickly explained to the receptionist that they wanted her grandson checked because ‘ _something seems to be wrong with his throat’_ as the regal woman phrased it.

 

By the time the Healer (who specialized in young children) had finished checking a solemn – and still eerily silent – Scorpius, Astoria was softly crying. She was desperately hoping the pleasant, slightly-chubby man examining her son would tell her she was being foolish. That Scorpius was perfectly alright and was merely quiet by nature. She longed to be able to go home and never mention this visit to her husband and his father, her worries assuaged by a positive medical diagnosis of perfection. But some part of her – some trembling maternal instinct buried deep in her heart – told her that that wasn’t going to be the case. Something was wrong – _terribly_ wrong – with her angelic child. She just didn’t know what.

 

“Well, Mrs. Malfoy.” He smiled and added to Narcissa. “And Mrs. Malfoy. Scorpius is a beautiful child. He is a good height and weight for his age and seems perfectly self-aware. Especially so, for a child of his still young age.”

 

The man rose from where he’d been crouched on the floor beside Scorpius, who was playing with a wooden block set that created a sort of 3D puzzle when properly put together on the upright pegs and frame. “He’s alright?” Astoria breathed, her blue eyes wide as she nervously twisted her fingers together on her lap. “Nothing’s wrong with him, Healer Mitchell?”

 

James Mitchell winced, running a hand through his thinning, mousey-brown hair. “I wouldn’t say that something is _wrong_ , Mrs. Malfoy.” He said carefully. “Scorpius is very intelligent. His hearing and eyesight are both perfect.” He sat on the little rolling stool next to the two elegant, refined women. “I am, however, highly concerned by his lack of verbalization. You say he’s never spoken? Not once?”

 

“Vocalization.” Narcissa murmured softly. When the Healer looked at her askance, she smiled wanly and explained. “You said ‘lack of verbalization’ but it is actually a lack of _vocalization_. He does not make any sound at all. And he never has.”

 

James’ concern tripled. “His throat is fine.” He said firmly, seeking to reassure the women that way. “He has no damage or improper development to his vocal cords or any other area of his throat. I cannot say why he doesn’t make a sound, but my suggestion…”

 

“What?” Astoria demanded when he trailed off. She leaned forward slightly, grasping one of his hands in both of hers and clinging almost desperately. “Please, Healer Mitchell. I will do _anything_ to help my son get past this. _Anything._ Just tell me what I should do. Please.”

 

“A Mind-Healer.” James told her bluntly, after casting a slightly-nervous look at Narcissa; the wife of Lucius Malfoy was known to be more dangerous than her husband. She had lied to Lord Voldemort’s face years ago, during the Battle of Hogwarts, after all…and that took serious balls. “There is no medical reason preventing him from making sounds. That means we need to search for an alternative reason. A Mind-Healer may be able to coax him into speaking, with time and care.”

 

Hours later, Astoria was still reeling. Draco would never consent to her taking Scorpius to a Mind-Healer; that much she knew. Narcissa was watching her daughter-in-law from across the tea service, sipping slowly at her chamomile tea. “Astoria.” Her gentle voice brought the girl’s blue eyes into focus. “We cannot take him, just as we cannot tell our husbands. Draco might be persuaded to see things our way, with time, but Lucius would not. We cannot win that fight.”

 

Tears burning the backs of her eyes, Astoria nodded. “I know.” She admitted in a whisper. “I know it’s hopeless. But what about Scorpius?”

 

“We must consider an alternative method of communication.” Narcissa explained. “There are spells, of course, that allow one’s words to be written in the air, but they require more concentration and control than Scorpius has yet.” Her face – which could rival a Veela’s for beauty – was set with the firm lines of determination. “But there is a method…I heard of it years ago, whilst still at Hogwarts. My sister, Andromeda, heard about it from her Muggleborn husband. Though he was merely her boyfriend at the time, of course.”

 

“A Muggle solution?” Astoria stared at Narcissa in shock. Of course the War was long since over, but if Lucius was going to object to a Mind-Healer, it was nothing to how he would feel about any sort of Muggle treatment. “How…but…I mean, what…” She couldn’t even form the words necessary to explain how confused she was.

 

“When a Muggle cannot hear or speak – for whatever reason – they often cannot cure it.” Narcissa sneered faintly, explaining. “Their healing methods are far inferior to our own, you see. So, instead, they teach the person to speak with their hands. Using gestures. Each motion or position of the hands means something; a word or letter or phrase. It’s complicated, but apparently children tend to pick it up quite quickly.” She bit her full lower lip in a brief display of emotion, then added. “It is not the ideal solution, I know…but at least you and I could learn to communicate with him, even if no one else does.”

 

“So we…we make up hand-motions and assign words to them?” Astoria was baffled, but attempting to follow the idea. “And we teach them to Scorpius so he can talk to us…with his hands?”

 

Narcissa shook her head, taking another sip of her tea. “No, there are already words assigned to motions, you see. It’s like its own language. We just need to learn it.” She smiled coolly and added. “I shall owl Andromeda immediately, if you’re agreeable.”

 

Astoria was.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Andromeda Tonks did not often see her sister, Narcissa, except very rarely at Ministry functions or charity events. Though the two women wrote each other letters and sent pictures of their respective grandsons, that was the extent of their contact. So she’d been a bit baffled when her sister had asked to meet her at a café in Muggle London. Sensing the desperation in the letter, Andromeda had agreed. Besides, Teddy was away at Hogwarts for the school year and she was a bit lonely. There were worse ways to spend her afternoon than in the company of Narcissa.

 

So now she sat across from Narcissa, her sister’s daughter-in-law – Astoria – and Scorpius. The blonde-haired boy was adorable, though apparently far more shy and reserved than Teddy had been at that age since he hadn’t spoken yet. “Your letter sounded…strained, Cissy. What’s wrong?”

 

Narcissa smiled, but it was forced and Andromeda knew it; she knew her sister’s face as well as her own, after all. “Do you remember, ‘Romie, years ago when we were at Hogwarts, telling me about how Muggles cope with deafness or muteness?” Her voice was low and urgent; she couldn’t seem to keep a tight enough rein on her emotions. “You said, I believe, something about hand motions?”

 

Andromeda blinked in surprise, her gaze moving between Narcissa’s carefully blank expression and Astoria’s distraught face. “Yes, of course. I was attempting to persuade you and Bella that Muggles were quite clever.” She glanced at the silent little boy and her dark eyes widened. “It’s called sign language, Cissy.” She hesitated for a moment, then asked. “Is something wrong with Scorpius? Because if there is, surely a Healer could help…”

 

“The Healers can’t help him.” Astoria whispered in a trembling voice. “There’s nothing physically wrong with him. And Lucius would never allow us to take him to a Mind-Healer. We don’t know what else to do for him.” Her blue eyes pleaded with Andromeda. “Please, can you help us? We must find someone to teach us and Scorpius these hand motions. Please…”

 

“I’ll do whatever I can.” Andromeda agreed softly. Her heart went out to the young woman seated beside her sister. It was clear Astoria loved Scorpius very much. “We’ll find a way. Don’t worry.”

 

And if there was one thing that could be said about the members of the Black family, it was this: When they wanted something, they got it. No matter what.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Scorpius was 9 years old before Lucius was willing to acknowledge that something wasn’t right with the boy. He’d become ridiculously proficient at sign language; his hands moved so fast that Astoria and Narcissa could barely keep up. In fact, the teacher they’d hired – who met with them once a week at Andromeda’s house – was the only one who never got lost when Scorpius signed. The man – a Muggleborn who had a deaf cousin – was named Christian Bowers. He had taken to Scorpius right away and the child had taken to the signing like he’d been born to it. He knew, however, that he was _never_ to sign in front of his grandfather.

 

He had, however, slipped on occasion and signed when his father could see. Draco was intrigued, but said nothing; he didn’t know how to ask Astoria what was going on. Things came to a head when Lucius finally lost his temper – and his tenuous hold on his denial – shortly after Scorpius’s 9th birthday. “The boy is an imbecile!” He’d snarled, causing Scorpius to flinch back into the cushions of the settee he was seated on in the parlor. “I never thought I’d live to see the day when a Malfoy heir was too stupid to string two words together. Hell, the boy’s too stupid to even manage _one_ word!”

 

“He’s not _stupid!_ ” Astoria spat. Lucius, Draco, and Narcissa stared at the petite brunette in shock; she was known for being timid and easily-controlled; it was part of why she’s been selected as Draco’s wife. But Scorpius was her son and she wouldn’t sit there while he was insulted. “He’s incapable of talking because _you_ wouldn’t let us seek help for him! If we’d taken him to a Mind-Healer as a child, he might speak by now! Or perhaps we’d at least know _why_ he doesn’t speak, even if we couldn’t fix it. This is entirely _your fault,_ Lucius, and don’t you _dare_ forget it! _”_

 

Looking nervously between his mother and his grandfather, Scorpius raised his hands. After a brief hesitation he bit his lower lip and lowered them again, twisting them together in his lap. Draco watched his son, then turned to his wife and said quietly. “I believe Scorpius has something to say. Would you mind explaining?”

 

With a cold look at her father-in-law, Astoria turned to smile warmly at her son. “Go ahead, Scorpius. It’s alright.” She encouraged. Her eyes watched as Scorpius’s hands moved rapidly, then she sighed and nodded before saying. “Scorpius said he’s not stupid. He’s just different. And since he can talk just fine with his hands, he wants to know why it matters if he can’t talk with his voice.”

 

Lucius looked livid. “What is the meaning of this nonsense?” He snarled, utterly furious. “Who taught him to do that?”

 

“Shut up, Lucius.” Narcissa’s voice was icy and Lucius took a wary step back from her cold anger. “I will not have you discouraging our grandson’s only method of communication. He learned it from the man _I_ hired to teach him, just as Astoria and I did. And it will serve him well whilst at Hogwarts.”

 

“He cannot attend…”

 

“The hell he can’t.” Astoria snarled, cutting of Lucius’s words. “We’ve got ‘Romie working on a translation device that will speak out loud what Scorpius signs. As soon as it’s finished, he’ll be able to communicate well enough to attend school. Spell-casting will be difficult, as it will need to be nonverbal, but it won’t be impossible and he’ll manage.”

 

Draco cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. And he knew that, whichever side of the argument he landed on, that side would win. If he put his foot down and sided with his father, then Astoria would give up and let it go. If he sided with his wife and mother, his father would have no choice but to cede to their wishes. Though, of course, it would not be a _gracious_ ceding. And looking over at the hope in Scorpius’s grey eyes, he knew what his decision would be. He could not bring himself to crush that hope, nor to discourage his son when he had already come so far.

 

Clearing his throat a second time, Draco looked at Astoria and said. “I’d like it if you could teach me what those gestures mean. I’d like to be able to understand our son.”

 

Astoria’s eyes gleamed with tears as she nodded. “Of course.” She murmured, smiling at him. “I’d be happy to.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Albus Severus Potter was a dangerous child. At 9 years old, he could fight with – and win against – teenagers. It came from being raised with 2 siblings and 9 cousins, of varying ages, dispositions, and levels of viciousness. Al ranked right up there, in terms of viciousness, with his cousins Victoire, Dominique, and Louis, and his brother, James. Considering his brother took after _both_ of his namesakes – James Potter and Sirius Black – and his cousins were Veelas, that was saying something. In fact, very few people could compete with Al for viciousness, or bloodthirstiness. He was picked on the least of the 12 cousins by everyone – including his honorary-older-brother, Teddy Lupin, who normally delighted in tormenting each and every one of them.

 

But it wasn’t wise to mess with Al and they’d all learned that early on. He was creative and incredibly mean-spirited with his vengeance when he was attacked and was equally vicious when he was in the mood to be a bully himself. Which was why Andromeda was wary when Al – who was visiting Teddy, who had just finished his 6th year at Hogwarts – asked her curiously about the blonde boy who was off in a corner of her yard with his teacher.

 

“Who’s that little boy?” Albus asked, green eyes locked on the pale child, who was moving his lips soundlessly and making myriad gestures with his hands. “And why’s he waving his hands around all crazy like that?”

 

Deciding there was very little harm in answering, Andromeda said. “That is my nephew, Scorpius. And he’s not waving his hands, Allie. He’s speaking with them. It’s called sign language. Scorpius uses it because he cannot speak.”

 

“Oh.” Albus tipped his head curiously to the side, turning those verdant eyes on Andromeda. “Why can’t he speak, Grandma ‘Romie? Is he sick?”

 

“No, he isn’t sick.” Andromeda said softly, turning to watch Scorpius with sad eyes. “We don’t know why he can’t talk, Allie. No one does.” She sighed and added. “I’m working on a device with your Aunt Hermione and your Grandpa Arthur to translate for him; if we can use it to give him a voice of sorts, then he’ll be able to attend Hogwarts.”

 

Albus nodded slowly, considering this as he turned to watch the boy again. “So…if you can’t make this voice for him, he can’t go to Hogwarts?” Andromeda nodded absently. “That’s sad. When is he supposed to be going?”

 

Andromeda’s lips curved up sadly. “In two years, when you go.” She told him. “But I’m not too worried, because when Hermione sets her mind to something it’s only a matter of time before it happens. She’s quite stubborn.”

 

Albus nodded again, even more slowly than before. Then he glanced up at the older woman and said in a firm voice. “I want to learn to talk with my hands, Grandma ‘Romie, like Scorpius does. Can you teach me how?”

 

Surprised, Andromeda agreed. “I suppose I could, yes. But why-ever would you want to learn something like that?”

 

“To know.” Albus replied with a careless shrug. “To say that I can, because none of my cousins know how to do that. Just because.”

 

And accepting the little boy’s logic with the grace of a woman who had had two sisters and several cousins, and who had raised both a daughter and a grandson, Andromeda agreed once more. “I’ll be happy to teach you, Allie. We’ll start right now…”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The week before he was going to board the Hogwarts Express for the first time, Albus bounded happily into Andromeda’s arms, laughing. “Hello, Grandma ‘Romie!” He chirped as he let her go. If he had been vicious at 9, he was more so at 11. His angelic face only made him more dangerous, since people tended to think he was innocent. “So, Scorpius must be as excited as I am about Hogwarts, right?”

 

“Oh…” Andromeda stared at Albus in shock. After that day two years before, Scorpius and Albus had never again crossed paths. Albus had never asked about him, nor mentioned him, despite his avaricious desire to learn sign language; she’d thought the boy had forgotten about her nephew. “Allie, Scorpius won’t be attending. Hermione, Arthur, and I haven’t been able to get the device to remember enough signs for it to be effective.”

 

Albus blinked at her for a moment, then fury splashed across his face so fast it was frightening. “That’s not fair!” The boy snarled, looking suddenly demonic instead of angelic. “No! He’s going. I’ll translate for him myself. It’s not fair for him not to go!” Albus turned flashing emerald eyes on her and added. “He’s got as much right to go as any other Wizarding child, voice or not!”

 

Utterly stunned, Andromeda felt tears burning her eyes. “Really?” She asked him, grasping his hands tightly in her own. “You’ll really translate for him?” Albus nodded, looking determined, and she gathered the boy into a tight hug. “You’re a lovely child, Allie. You’re a wonderful person. Don’t ever let anyone tell you any differently. Ever.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

As Astoria kissed Scorpius on the top of his head and shooed him towards the train, Draco stood stoically beside her. As their son’s platinum-blonde head disappeared from view, Draco murmured. “You’re certain he’s capable of attending? Really?”

 

Astoria nodded. “I’m not certain how, but Andromeda assured me that a translator of some sort would be waiting for Scorpius on the train. She said she worked it all out with Headmistress McGonagall.” Resting her head on Draco’s shoulder, she added. “We’ll be owled if any issues arise.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Scorpius Malfoy wasn’t certain he could explain to anyone what his life was like, being unable to speak at all. Not that anyone had ever bothered to ask him, of course. But still. It was the sort of thing he thought about from time-to-time. He knew what words sounded like; he could hear just fine. He knew how to analyze the cadence of a voice and the rise and fall of it to determine someone’s mood. He knew how the sounds were made, too. He could form them with his tongue and lips; he could practically taste them at times. It was just that when he tried to force his breath to make the sounds his mouth was forming, nothing seemed to happen.

 

_He_ could hear the sounds he was making; they echoed around him eerily in a way no other sound did. It was almost as though his voice was caught in an invisible shell around his head, tossed mockingly back at him. Taunting him with the fact that no one else could hear it. Teasing him with the knowledge that he could scream himself hoarse if he liked and no one would ever catch even the tiniest whisper of sound. He didn’t know _why_ he could hear himself – even if it was a hollow, echoing sort of sound – when no one else could. He’d never bothered to ask. It was simply how it was; how it had always been.

 

And now, it didn’t matter. It hadn’t mattered for many years, actually. For over half of his life, he’d been able to speak with his hands. It was frustrating that only 4 people – his mother, his father, his grandmother, and his Aunt ‘Romie – could understand him…but it was better than none, he supposed, which was how many people had been able to understand him until he was nearly 5. And now his Aunt ‘Romie had written to say that she’d figured out a translator for him, so he could attend Hogwarts. Which meant he could go away to school and talk to people and – perhaps – make friends.

 

It was the prospect of making friends that had Scorpius all but vibrating in his seat as the train pulled out of the station. He was dressed in his plain black robes, eager for the moment he would be given a House tie and badge. His father said he would be a Slytherin, like the rest of their family, but his mother had whispered in his ear that morning that she would be pleased no matter where he was Sorted. She thought he was more than clever enough to be a Ravenclaw. And he was certainly brave, choosing to go to school when he couldn’t speak, even if he’d have a translation device of some sort. Brave enough to be a Gryffindor, she’d told him with a smile. And even if it infuriated the rest of their family, Astoria had reassured Scorpius that she would be proud to see her son in red and gold.

 

Privately, Scorpius thought he’d look awful in Gryffindor red, though not as sickly as he’d look wearing Hufflepuff yellow. They weren’t good colors for him. But Ravenclaw’s blue would look lovely with his eyes and Slytherin green was a perfect backdrop for his white-blonde hair. So either of those Houses would suit him just fine. He didn’t really care where he went so long as he was at Hogwarts because there had been a time – a very recent time – when he’d been afraid he’d never get to go at all. And for the first time since he’d learned to speak with his hands, Scorpius had cursed his lack of voice.

 

Now…now, it didn’t matter.

 

He looked up when his compartment door opened. Standing in the doorway was a boy about his age, though a little taller than him. He had lightly-tanned golden skin, a tousled mop of black hair, and the most intense green eyes Scorpius had ever seen. He had a sweet, cherubic face that made Scorpius think the boy would be a Hufflepuff; surely he was too innocent to be anything else. Scorpius bit his lip, not sure what to do. He couldn’t speak and he didn’t have the translator yet. So he settled for a nervous little wave, hoping that would suffice and the boy would leave.

 

Instead a smile curved full, cherry-red lips and the boy spoke. “Hi. I’m Albus Potter, but you can call me…oh. Er…well. Hmmm. Allie. You can call me Allie, I guess, if you’re going to call me anything, though I don’t know how…well. Anyway…” The boy’s words were rushed, tumbling over themselves as they left his mouth. “You’re Scorpius Malfoy, right?”

 

When Scorpius nodded hesitantly, Albus grinned widely at him, showing straight white teeth. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you. Are you excited to be going to Hogwarts?” He moved into the compartment and sat down across from Scorpius. “I bet you are. I know I am. What are you most excited about?”

 

Scorpius was torn; he liked the friendly, exuberant boy immediately, but he hated that the boy was asking him for something he couldn’t give. Conversation. Frustrated, Scorpius used the index finger and thumb of his right hand to make a twisting motion three times, moving his hand to the left across his chest as he did so, then pointed to Albus. His lips were making the pout he used to get his way, but it was genuine for once. He felt sullen and disagreeable.

 

“Screw you, huh?” Albus said, amusement lacing his voice. “Well, that’s a bit rude. Let me guess. Grandma ‘Romie didn’t tell you I was your translator, huh?”

 

Eyes widening, Scorpius signed frantically. **_‘You can understand me?’_ ** He held his breath until Albus nodded, then signed again. **_‘That is amazing! I cannot believe it. So you are going to translate for me all year, then? I hope we are in the same House, or it will be awkward.’_**

 

Albus chuckled. “I suppose it would, but I’m not too worried. My dad said if I want a specific House, all I have to do is tell the Sorting Hat that. So since you’ll be Sorted first, I’ll just tell it to put me where ever you go. Probably Slytherin, right?”

 

**_‘Possibly.’_** Scorpius agreed with a grin. **_‘It could be Raven claw, though.’_** Scorpius had to break the word Ravenclaw into two words be able to sign it, but it was better than the other Houses. Those he needed to spell out.

 

“Ugh, I hope not!” Albus made a face. “They have to answer riddles to get into their Common Room and I’m absolute pants at riddles. Plus, my cousin Rose is going to be a Ravenclaw, I just know it. And I love Rosie, don’t get me wrong, but if I have to be in her House I’ll end up tying her to a tree in the Forest, covered in raw meat so the Thestrals can eat her, come exam time. She’d drive me _mad_.”

 

Scorpius stared at the angelic-looking boy across from him. Albus Potter was apparently a vicious little demon of a child. A slow smile worked its way onto the blonde’s lips; he was perfectly okay with that. He was expecting to get teased and attacked a lot and it would be lovely if his translator could become his bodyguard as well. And bodyguards were _so_ much more efficient if they were vicious and dangerous. It was also perfect that Albus looked so sweet. Between Al’s angelic face, his own delicate beauty, and the vulnerability he gave off from not being able to speak, they would get away with _anything_.

 

Tipping his head to the side, Scorpius signed very carefully. **_‘You realize, A-L-L-I-E, that you are mine now, right?’_**

 

Albus raised an eyebrow at the ethereal blonde boy across from him. “Yours?” He asked cautiously, receiving a nod in reply.

 

He considered for a moment what it would mean to be owned by the boy across from him. Malfoys weren’t the nicest people. But Blacks, which this boy also was, were amazing. Grandma ‘Romie was a Black and everyone knew that when you belonged to her, you were protected and cherished. He knew that his siblings didn’t belong to anyone outside his family. His cousins didn’t, either, except for Victoire, who had taken to telling people lately that she belonged to Teddy. And she seemed to puff up with pride saying it, because Teddy was handsome and clever and unique. Well, the boy across from him was beautiful and – according to Grandma ‘Romie – very intelligent and he was certainly unique. And Tor had had to wait until she was 16 to belong to someone; Al was only 11.

 

“Alright then.” Albus said with a smug little grin curving his lips. “I’m yours, Scorpius.” He paused for a moment, then added. “But that means you’re mine as well.”

 

Scorpius pondered briefly the implications of belonging to a Potter, before decided that it just meant the boy would protect him that much better. Potters always protected what was theirs. **_‘Deal.’_**

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was 16 years old, plus a few months. He was beyond gorgeous, to the point where the only male in school who came close was Louis Weasley and that boy was a _Veela_ , for the love of Merlin. He had knee-length platinum blonde hair that he kept secured in a tight, thick braid at all times; if his hair was free, people tended to try to _touch_ him and that just wasn’t acceptable. His eyes were the lightest grey imaginable, though they darkened slightly if he was angry, and were framed by long lashes that were shades darker than his pale hair. His skin was porcelain perfection – completely free of the bothersome spots many in his year sported – and was as soft as a baby’s bum. His features were delicate and sharp; high cheekbones and a pointed chin and a short, pert nose that was slightly upturned at the end. He was only 5’5” tall and had an incredibly slim build, which made him the perfect Seeker. Slytherin _always_ caught the Snitch; no one was lighter or faster on a broom than Scorpius Malfoy.

 

He was also wholly unique in that he had never spoken a single word. Instead, he communicated through hand gestures known as sign language, translated by his best friend – one Albus Severus Potter. Albus was beautiful as well. He had shoulder-length black hair – currently streaked with deep green – that he wore tugged back into a low ponytail. He had brilliant green eyes and a face of angelic innocence that was somehow ruggedly handsome. At nearly 6’ tall, with broad shoulders and narrow hips and muscles that came with being the most vicious Beater Slytherin had ever had, he looked like the drawings of Archangels that Scorpius had seen in the archives of the Vatican when his mother had taken him a few years earlier. All Al needed was a flaming sword to complete the look, because Albus was beautiful, beyond a shadow of a doubt. But he was also dangerous and you knew it just by looking at him. There was malice to the set of his shoulders; viciousness in the shining green eyes; cruelty to the curve of his full lips. Scorpius loved that about him.

 

It was thanks to his best friend that Scorpius knew why he could not produce sound. In fact, he could…it was just trapped. No one could ever hear his voice – which was actually soft and breathy and seductive – except for himself. It was his description to Al of what happened when he tried to speak or make noise – how it sounded to him and how it felt – that had prompted the adults in their lives to dig further. Al’s uncle – Bill Weasley – was a renowned Curse Breaker and had studied Scorpius thoroughly. That, combined with Hermione Granger-Weasley making several trips into the Department of Mysteries, had finally revealed the curse placed on the Malfoy family line shortly after the end of the Second Wizarding War.

 

No Malfoy would ever gain power again, because they were stripped of their voices. This would limit their magic, their charm, their influence…all of it. Hermione had insisted that the curse could be broken – ones of this nature always could – and Bill had concurred. And they’d researched like crazy. But the _‘solution’_ – if it could optimistically be called such – was ridiculously cryptic and Scorpius held little hope of anyone ever hearing the sound of his voice. Not that it mattered much, since Scorpius had yet to find a spell he couldn’t master and Albus was the best translator anyone could ask for. Albus and Scorpius also weren’t allowed to be separated due to his need for the other boy’s voice and that was precisely how Scorpius liked things. He had declared at 11 that Albus was _his_ ; that hadn’t changed.

 

What had changed was the fact that he now wanted Albus to be his in _every_ way. He hated being left behind when Albus snuck off on dates. Al had, of course, offered to double-date with Scorpius, but the blonde had no interest in anyone who wasn’t his best friend. So he spent those evenings – and nights – in the private solitude of his and Al’s room, cursing out loud though no one could hear it and praying the girl would vomit on Al so he would come back sooner.

 

It was only after a particularly long, tiresome night of wishing harm on Al’s current date – a Fluff-N-Puff girl named Vivienne Smith who should have been in Slytherin – that Scorpius realized what he had to do to get Albus. As a cruel smile curved his pink lips, Scorpius began to plan.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Albus watched in shock at lunch the next day as Scorpius’s hands flew. **_‘I need to talk to your brother.’_** He explained rapidly. ** _‘So come on. I do not want to wait.’_**

****

Albus and James did _not_ get along. James was in his 7 th and final year at Hogwarts and was Head Boy. He had gleaming chestnut brown hair with a liberal streaking of Weasley red through it that was short and tousled, and warm brown eyes and a slightly-softer sort of rugged handsomeness than what Albus possessed. He was also known for going along with absolutely anything, provided it would annoy or anger his younger brother. Which was precisely what Scorpius was banking on. The two boys approached the Gryffindor table, where James was holding court over a group of fawning, giggling girls. Albus had his face twisted into an expression of distaste.

 

Seeing them, James smirked in amused indulgence. “Why hello there, little brother.” His voice was lightly mocking. His eyes flicked to Scorpius and he raised an eyebrow. “Malfoy. Hello.”

 

Scorpius immediately lowered his eyes, peeking up at James from under his lashes. He let a light blush tint his cheeks a soft pink that he knew was endearing and bit his full lower lip lightly. Then he carefully signed, waiting for Al’s reaction.

 

“Fuck no, I’m not saying that!” Albus snarled, grabbing Scorpius’s arm and starting to drag him away from his brother’s territory. “You’re obviously not feeling well, Pi. I’m taking you to the hospital wing to get checked. Come on.”

 

Scorpius slapped Albus’s hand away from his arm. **_‘Stop it!’_** He signed, looking furious. **_‘You are supposed to translate for me! So tell him what I said. Now.’_**

 

“I told you, no.” Al snapped, crossing his arms defiantly. “I’m not saying it. Period. It’s not going to happen. No way. Too bad for you.”

 

Scorpius narrowed his eyes, ignoring the curious stares of the Gryffindors next to them. **_‘Tell him what I said, A-L-L-I-E, or you will regret it. I will inform Aunt R-O-M-I-E of your behavior.’_**

 

His face twisting with disgust and fury, Al turned to face James. With a cruelty that no one had ever seen directed at Scorpius before, he sneered. “My apparently mentally-disturbed friend wants you to fuck him, James.” He turned to glare at Scorpius and added. “Happy now, you little slut?”

 

Scorpius didn’t even stop to think. He brought his hand up hard and slapped Al hard across the face, his chest heaving as he panted silently, before signing furiously. **_‘That was uncalled for and you know it. Fix it.’_**

 

“Fix it yourself, you little bitch.” Albus spat, turning and stalking away, sitting down at the Slytherin table to glare across the room at his brother and his best friend.

 

And Scorpius stood there, beside the Gryffindor table, looking utterly miserable. He turned to James and raised his hands, then lowered them again looking defeated. James wouldn’t understand anything he signed anyway, so what was the point?  He’d forgotten the most important thing while creating this plan; he _needed_ Albus, but Albus didn’t need him. What had he done? Yes, clearly Al was furious – and hopefully jealous – but at what cost? He’d lost his voice…again.

 

“Hold on a second, Scorpius.” James touching his arm stopped him as he began to walk away. The Slytherin turned to stare at the other boy in confusion. “Just…wait here, alright?”

 

Scorpius nodded, watching in confusion as James ran over to the Hufflepuff table. He whispered to his cousin, Hugo, who shook his head and pointed to Ravenclaw, where his sister sat. James ran over there next, had a quick conversation with Rose, and then returned to Gryffindor with her in tow. “Rosie and Hugo have been learning sign language.” James explained with a charming smile when he returned. “I figured Hugo might put you more at ease, being a Hufflepuff and all, but he doesn’t think he knows enough yet to be helpful. Rosie knows a lot more.”

 

Scorpius signed – slower than usual, just in case – to Rose. She blushed, but nodded and turned to face her cousin. “He says that he’s sorry for what Allie said and that all he wanted to do was let you know that he likes you.” Scorpius signed again and she added. “He also says that he understands if you don’t like him back, but he wanted to let you know.”

 

Then, while everyone was busy looking at James for a reaction, Scorpius deliberately winked. James’s eyes widened, then a slow grin formed. “Really?” He said, raising an eyebrow. “So…you like me. Does that mean you’d be interested in, say…sitting on my lap in the Great Hall during dinner? Snogging in the hallways between classes? Groping each other in the Library?”

 

And Scorpius heard the unspoken words, _‘All in front of my little brother?’_ which were tacked onto the end of that. Scorpius nodded, his eyes gleaming. James smirked again and purred. “Perfect, then.”

 

And before Scorpius quite knew what was happening, James had tugged him forward until they were chest-to-chest and kissed him. He felt the older teen’s hands cradling his face as warm, slightly-chapped lips pressed against his. He parted his mouth slightly and James did the same; warm, moist breath passed between their sealed mouths. There was no tongue, but the kiss felt strangely intimate anyway. When James drew back a few moments later, Scorpius was genuinely flushed. His silver eyes were a half-shade darker then they’d been before the kiss and his lips were still slightly parted.

 

He and James were staring at each other, both feeling slightly stunned; neither had anticipated _liking_ the kiss. Just as speculative curiosity entered James’s brown eyes – making Scorpius’s breath hitch in his chest – there was a loud crash from behind them. Scorpius spun, staring in shock at the Slytherin table. A bench was now lying on its side on the floor and Albus was standing in front of it, glaring at them, breathing hard. Scorpius felt James come up behind him, then felt the taller boy’s arms encircle his waist while James rested his chin on Scorpius’s shoulder. Seeing Albus’s eyes narrow, Scorpius narrowed his own and raised his chin in defiance. Albus turned and stormed out of the Great Hall, slamming the huge double doors open and shut as he passed through them.

 

“I sure hope you know what you’re doing, Scorpius.” James said quietly into his ear. “Because I’ve no intention of letting my brother – _or you_ – hurt me.”

 

Knowing he could do nothing else to reassure the teen behind him, Scorpius merely nodded. And, silently, he hoped he knew what he was doing as well.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Scorpius had been “dating” James Sirius Potter – resident Gryffindor Sex God and playboy – for two weeks. Rose had taken to translating for him whenever she could. The rest of the time, Scorpius resorted to using a spell to project his thoughts into the air as words. He didn’t like the spell because it took a lot of concentration. He much preferred Albus speaking for him. But the other Slytherin boy refused to talk to him at all. It was slowly killing Scorpius to have lost his best friend. His only consolation was the fact that James had taken to snogging him _quite_ thoroughly every time they crossed paths. It was hard to be in a properly foul mood when an attractive bloke was snogging you breathless.

 

In fact, as he wandered a bit dazedly down the hall, he was currently struggling to catch said breath. He’d been studying Arithmancy in the library and had gone for a book down a particularly-unused aisle. And suddenly James was there, shoving him up against the bookshelf and kissing him until he couldn’t think straight. He’d used his tongue and teeth and a delightful amount of sucking to make Scorpius weak in the knees and soft in the head. He’d melted into the older boy, his whole body going warm and pliant.

 

James wasn’t who he _really_ wanted, of course, but he was certainly an amazing kisser. He seemed to put his entire body into the kiss; it wasn’t just about his mouth. One hand had pinned both of Scorpius’s wrists to the books above his head and the other had slipped under his robes and untucked his shirt, finally coming to rest – hot and solid – against the soft skin at the curve of his waist. His chest had pressed against Scorpius’s own, a steady pressure that increased each time that they breathed. His hips had pressed forward and Scorpius had felt a heady thrill at the feel of James’s arousal. With his hips moving subtly, his fingers lightly stroking the blonde’s waist, and his mouth seemingly attempting to suck out the Slytherin’s soul like a dementor, James literally used his whole being in the kiss. It was enough to steal all reason and logic from the slightly-younger boy.

 

When James had finally stopped, walking away while cheerfully whistling, Scorpius had stood stock-still for several moments. Finally, he realized that standing in the library, well-snogged and aroused and unable to focus long enough to remember the day of week – let alone a spell – was probably not the brightest thing he’d ever done, since he was currently without his translator/bodyguard. So he’d gathered his books quickly and was now walking down the halls, slowly making his way towards the Slytherin common room. As he entered the cool, dark dungeons and began navigating them easily, Scorpius decided that James – provided he was as adept in other areas as he was with kissing - might be worth losing Albus over. Then he shook his head and smiled wistfully, know that that wasn’t true. Nothing was worth losing Al forever. _Nothing_.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Albus was torn. He adored Scorpius; the other boy was the central focus of his entire life at Hogwarts. He wanted nothing more than to beg the other boy for forgiveness. And then he would see his brother kissing his best friend and all reason would fly out the window. In those moments, he _hated_ Scorpius. Though not nearly as much as he hated James. Because Scorpius was supposed to be _his_. No one else should be touching the petite blonde boy. But there was James, constantly putting his grubby hands all over Scorpius; latching onto his mouth like he was trying to eat Scorpius’s face. It was nauseating and infuriating at the same time.

 

It should be him pressing Scorpius into a wall, not James. It should be his hands moving over that pale skin and silvery hair, not his brother’s. It should be _him_ , because he’d _earned_ it. He was the only one who had taken the time to learn to understand Scorpius’s method of speaking. He was the one who’d helped figure out that Scorpius was cursed. He was the one who’d spent months pouring over books with Aunt Hermione and Uncle Bill, trying to make the cryptic end to the curse make sense.

 

The stupid curse, which would remain ‘ _until a prince born of Light magic takes by force that which a Malfoy heir willingly gives.’_ Which made no sense because, among other things, there were no magical princes. In fact, not only was there no royalty in the Wizarding World, there were also no princes in the Muggle world who had magic. And the Prince family line had died out in the Second War, with the name lost to obscurity before the First War even happened. So Hermione had been at a loss and had finally told Al and Scorpius that it must refer to a future generation; some Muggle prince would marry a Light witch and she would give birth to the prince the curse spoke of.

 

Albus had refused to accept that Scorpius was not going to be cured, though. He had continued searching – and still searched, actually – for some other meaning behind the word “prince”. He wanted to free Scorpius from the spell’s hold. He wanted to hear the boy speak. He also wanted to be the one who was kissing Scorpius. But that would require explaining – and apologizing for – his outburst. Which, he decided, he was fully prepared to do, if it meant he could get Scorpius back.

 

He heard his roommate come in and rustle around for bit. When the room fell silent, Albus cautiously drew the bed curtains back. “Pi…” He said softly, sticking his head out through the gap in the green velvet curtains. Some of his cousins had nicknamed Scorpius ‘Pious’ when they were younger; Al had quickly shortened it to ‘Pi’, though no one else got to call the blonde that.

 

Albus sucked in a sharp breath when he saw Scorpius. His roommate had clearly gotten ready for bed, despite the fact that it was only 8pm. Scorpius was laying on his back on the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of black silk boxers. His pale skin was nearly luminous in the torchlight. He had unbraided his hair and it spilled in a silvery mass across the emerald-green silk sheets, fanning out around Scorpius’s lithe frame. Al’s cock twitched at the sight of that unbound hair; there was just so much of it. He longed to feel /it trailing over his skin; to fist his hands in it and pull while Scorpius rode him until the blonde was a quivering, shuddering mess above him. Sweet Salazar, he just _wanted_.

 

Opening his mouth to start apologizing, he was stopped before the words could leave his lips. Raising his arms above his head in an almost-stretch, Scorpius smiled softly. It drew Al’s attention to the blonde’s full, petal-pink lips…which were slightly-swollen. From kissing. From kissing _James_. Scorpius opened eyes that were storm cloud grey and slightly sleepy-looking; almost dazed. Then, moving his fingers lazily as he mouthed the words, he said and signed. **_‘Hey, Alley Cat.’_**

 

Al’s fingers clenched around his wand and his mouth twisted into a sneer. “Well, don’t you look _satisfied_ , Pi.” His voice was cold and had Scorpius’s eyes widening. “Been busy playing the whore for my brother again, have you?”

 

Scorpius saw that Albus was raising his wand and, knowing his friend’s temper, he began to panic. **_‘Wait, Alley Cat!’_** He signed quickly, trying to stop the other boy from doing something rash in a moment of temper. **_‘Just let me explain, please! I do not…’_**

 

But before Scorpius could finish signing that he didn’t want James – that he had _never_ wanted James – Albus quickly spat out a spell. “Incarcerous!” Scorpius’s wrists were swiftly bound together and drawn back up above his head. Then the ropes wound themselves around the headboard of Scorpius’s four-poster bed, securing the blonde in place. Albus moved so he was standing next to the other Slytherin’s bed, glaring down at him.

 

Scorpius was panting now. His eyes were even darker than they had been – a deep, gunmetal grey – and his pupils were slightly dilated. His arms were pulled taut above his head, framing his face. He wished he could move his fingers enough to sign something to Albus, but he couldn’t. Instead, he licked his lips and mouthed a single word; the only word he could think of right then. _‘Please…’_

 

Albus was breathing heavily as he looked down at Scorpius. The smaller teen was laid out for him like a virginal sacrifice for a pagan god. He watched those luscious pink lips form the word ‘please’ without sound. All Albus could hear was his own breath coming in harsh pants; his blood rushing through his veins; his heart pounding in his chest. His trousers were too-tight around his prick, which was harder than he could ever remember it being. Keeping his eyes locked on his best friend’s bound form, he reached down to unbutton his fly and lower the zip.

 

The soft hissing sound of the metal teeth releasing from each other had Scorpius’s eyes widening. He sucked in a large breath and held it, his body utterly motionless beneath that piercing emerald gaze. He watched – not daring to move or breathe or even blink – as Albus tugged off his Slytherin tie. It fell to the floor, out of the bound boy’s view, and was followed swiftly by Al’s white button-up shirt. Scorpius stared at Albus’s bare, tan chest and swallowed hard; Al was gorgeous and muscular. He could just imagine what all of that heat and strength would feel like if it was surrounding him; dominating him. He wanted it so much he could practically taste it and he hoped Albus would follow through with the dark promise shining in those green eyes.

 

Albus shoved his trousers down, watching as Scorpius slowly licked his lips. Then he climbed onto Scorpius’s bed in nothing but a pair of light blue boxers. His cock was tenting the fabric and he growled softly as he knelt beside the blonde and realized that Scorpius’s own boxers were pulled taut against an erection. He wondered whether he had inspired it, or if James had. Which, as it turned out, was precisely the wrong thing to think. The thought of Scorpius getting aroused by James was enough to make Albus’s stomach twist into a ball of hot, angry nerves. Visions of each time he’d seen his brother touching and groping and kissing Scorpius flickered through his mind, followed by painful imaginings of Scorpius spread out – naked and willing – beneath James. The thought of his brother being inside Scorpius was too much for him.

 

He growled angrily and leaned forward until he was nose-to-nose with the smaller teen. Then he snarled viciously. “You little _slut_. I can’t believe how eagerly you’ve been giving yourself to my brother.” His eyes were flashing emerald fire and he continued in a low, dangerous voice. “I’m going to burn away every single memory of his t0uch. Because you might be a whore, Scorpius Malfoy…but you’re going to be _my_ whore.”

 

Scorpius whimpered, though he knew Albus wouldn’t hear it. He wanted to agree; he wanted to reassure his best friend that he was the _only_ person Scorpius wanted to be a ‘whore’ for. But he had no words – or rather, none that could be heard – and his hands were bound. So he would show Albus with his body, instead. He would welcome everything Al did – every touch, every kiss, and every second of this experience – and explain his feelings later. His eyelids dropped down to half-mast and his breathing deepened. His whole body went taut with anticipation.

 

Albus watched Scorpius lower his eyelids. He watched the pale, narrow chest rise and fall with slow, deep breaths. He watched as every muscle tensed under that pale, luminous skin. And, misunderstanding the fact that Scorpius was closing his eyes, struggling to breathe calmly, and tense, Albus narrowed his own eyes angrily. He tightened his fingers around his wand and gave it a vicious little wave, vanishing both of their boxers. Scorpius’s eyes flew open again, his spine stiffening in his surprise. He’d never been completely naked on a bed with another person before.

 

Once again misinterpreting the reaction of the boy he’d previously always understood, Al moved around on the bed. He nudged Scorpius’s legs apart and settled between the slender, trembling thighs. In his anger, he didn’t notice how swiftly and easily those long legs parted for him. He leaned forward again, this time pressing his lips to the hollow of Scorpius’s pale, slender throat. Albus felt it as Scorpius sucked in a sharp breath and he briefly flicked his tongue out against that indentation in response.

 

Dragging his slightly-parted lips up the front of Scorpius’s throat, he felt the vibrations under his lips as Scorpius attempted  to make some sort of sound. Albus assumed it was a protest of some sort; in actuality it was soft, throaty moan. The feel of Albus’s lips and tongue on his skin was more perfect than Scorpius had ever imagined; he wanted more. He shifted restlessly under the larger teen, inadvertently pressing their erections together and drawing a hoarse exclamation from Albus.

 

“Fuck, Pi…” Albus groaned, pressing his hips down against Scorpius and letting his eyes fall shut for a moment as he panted. “Fuck, you feel _so_ good…”

 

Scorpius whimpered silently in agreement, wishing he could return the sentiment. The hard, hot length of Albus’s cock pressing against his own was amazing. He felt Albus’s lips ghosting across the silky skin of his arm, then felt hot breath against his ear as the brunette nuzzled his cheek. He shivered when Albus’s tongue flicked lightly against his earlobe before those soft lips drifted over his cheek. Scorpius closed his eyes as the light kiss moved across the bridge of his nose and to his other cheek. His breathing deepened again as he struggled to rein in his desire; Scorpius was fighting the urge to arch his hips and grind desperately up against Albus. He wasn’t sure how Albus would react to such an action, despite their current circumstances.

 

Albus rocked his hips slightly, muttered another sharp expletive under his breath, then fumbled with his wand. He gave it a quick wave and cool slickness coated the palm and fingers of his left hand. “I’m sorry…” He murmured as he swiftly slicked himself with the lubricant. “I can’t wait, Pi.”

 

Albus bit his lip, staring down at Scorpius’s beautiful, flushed face as he guided his prick into position. His teeth clamped tightly around his lower lip – drawing blood with a painful tearing sensation – as he struggled for some semblance of control. He pressed the head of his cock against Scorpius’s entrance and pushed. The tight ring of muscle resisted and Albus took several deep breaths before leaning forward and clumsily pressing his lips to Scorpius’s mouth.

 

Scorpius stiffened when he felt the dual sensations of lips on his own and the hot, blunt head of Albus’s cock trying to push into his ass. But the desire to taste Albus very quickly overwhelmed his fear of being taken without prep and he parted his lips under his friend’s, letting his body to relax. He flicked his tongue out, startled to taste blood as he lapped lightly at Albus’s split lip. The sweet, dark taste of Albus’s tongue quickly chased away the metallic tang of blood as the blonde’s mouth was suddenly and passionately ravished.

 

Scorpius moaned low in his throat, hating that Albus couldn’t hear it but knowing the other boy would feel the sound vibrating against his tongue. Albus shuddered, then removed his lips  from Scorpius’s mouth. Fevered kisses were soon being scattered over Scorpius’s cheeks, his throat, and his arms and Scorpius began to babble. He knew Albus couldn’t hear the words, but he needed to say them anyway. _~Need you…want this…please, Allie…love you so much…wanted you forever…please…~_

Albus savored the feel of Scorpius’s silken skin under his lips and, bracing his weight on one hand and dragging the other down Scorpius’s chest and stomach to grip his hip tightly, he pushed his hips forward again. This time, with the pale, slim body under him being more relaxed, the tight ring of muscle soon gave way. Albus groaned as he pushed into Scorpius’s body; hot, tight heat surrounded his cock as he slid himself fully inside in a single, slow thrust. He threw his head back, his whole body trembling as he fought to hold back his release, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

 

Scorpius felt like he was being split open. His back arched, his arms tensed against their bindings, and his legs trembled. Instinctively he drew up his knees and parted his thighs further as the burning stretch grew worse with each inch Albus slid into him, until at last the brunette was fully-seated inside of him. He lay completely still under the object of his fantasies, not even daring to breath for fear of bringing back the pain that was slowly abating as they both held still. He could feel Albus trembling above  him. He could hear the harsh breathing of his best friend as hot air moved over his face in short bursts. He could taste the salty tang of sweat beading on his upper lip and feel it coating both their skin where their torsos were touching.

 

Scorpius’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut. Not to block out Albus; he desperately wanted to see those green eyes and full red lips and that beautiful face. No, his eyes were closed in a silly attempt to block out the pain. Thankfully, it was ebbing quickly. Just as his eyelashes fluttered and he opened charcoal-grey eyes, Albus decided to move. The larger Slytherin withdrew nearly completely, unable to bear the vice-like, velvety heat surrounding him without moving for even a second longer. Then, acting solely on sensation, Albus slammed back into the body of the silent boy beneath him.

 

Scorpius’s eyes widened as the sudden, forceful thrust caused the burning pain to return briefly before it was overwhelmed by a jolting, electric pleasure. His back bowed up and his thighs tightened around Albus’s narrow hips. His mouth fell open and a loud, keening cry was torn from his throat. “ _Allieeeee_!” He practically wailed. Scorpius’s eyes squeezed shut again as he panted loudly; the air in the room suddenly seemed too thick and hot – rather like the desire and need coursing through his veins.

 

Albus’s eyes flew open as his name was screamed. He stared in stunned silence at the panting blonde boy beneath him, his body going still again. He listened in shock to the sound of Scorpius gulping down air, whimpering softly in between gasping breaths. _Whimpering_. And he had _screamed_. He had screamed Albus’s nickname, in fact. In a high, desperate voice. Scorpius’s pale face was flushed a dark pink and his eyes were squeezed shut. His beautiful face was contorted with some emotion that Albus couldn’t identify, but which he was terribly afraid was _pain_.

 

Echoing in his mind was a single piece of a phrase; part of the cure to Scorpius’s curse. _‘A prince born of light magic.’_  With a loud swallow, Albus realized _he_ was the prince in question. The child of the Savior and his childhood sweetheart; the child of The Chosen One; the child of the darling of the Wizarding World. There was no one closer to ‘Wizarding Royalty’ than Harry Potter, nor was there any magic lighter than Harry’s; he was the epitome of Light, in fact. Yes, Albus was the prince. The one destined to cure Scorpius, like he’d always wanted to. Then he remembered the next part of the ‘cure’.

 

_‘Takes by force…takes by force…takes by force…’_

 

Those three words screamed through Albus and he felt sick. Here he was, his cock still buried inside Scorpius…and he had _forced_ the blonde. He had tied his best friend’s hands together, stripping the beautiful Slytherin of his only method of communication in the process. Scorpius had been incapable of voicing a protest. He had _raped_ the only person he had ever been in love with. Albus felt like he might throw up. And, at the same time, he couldn’t seem to make himself get off of Scorpius; the smaller teen felt too perfect under him.

 

Suddenly those silver eyes opened. They weren’t silver now, though. They were black, because Scorpius’s pupils were blown wide and only the merest ring of iris was visible around them. And even that was so dark of a grey that it was practically black as well. Albus, unable to meet that intense gaze, dropped his eyes down so he was staring at Scorpius’s pale, heaving chest instead. His head snapped back up when Scorpius spoke.

 

“Please…” Scorpius pleaded, dimly registering that his voice sounded different. He tugged against his restraints, feeling desperate now that the pain had faded again. The pulsing heat of Albus’s cock inside him was driving him mad; he needed the other boy to _move_.

 

He noticed that when he spoke, Albus’s head had snapped up. Very quickly. Feeling hope blossom in his chest, Scorpius began to beg breathlessly. “Please, Allie…please move…” Sure enough those green eyes widened at his words and he just _knew_ his friend could hear him. Suddenly the words were spilling out again. “Please, Allie…you’re so big... feels so _full_ …” He arched his hips, and added. “Wanted this for _so_ long…please don’t stop, Allie… _please_ …”

 

“I forced you…” Albus said in a choked voice, tears burning the back of his eyes as self-loathing curled darkly in his chest. “The curse couldn’t break if I hadn’t forced you…”

 

Scorpius breathed deeply, struggling to calm himself as the dual excitements of having Albus inside him and knowing that his voice could be heard nearly overwhelmed him. Then he smiled softly up at Albus and whispered. “Until a prince born of light magic takes by force _that which a Malfoy heir willingly gives.”_

_“_ Willingly…” Albus swallowed hard, staring intently into Scorpius’s eyes. “You mean it, Pi? You…you really want me?”

 

Scorpius rolled his eyes slightly at Albus’s insecurity, then arched his hips, causing Albus’s cock to move inside him. He moaned, then said in a low, breathy voice. “I don’t just _want_ you, Allie, I _love_ you. Untie me and I’ll show you just how much.”

 

“ _Finite._ ” And just like that, Scorpius’s hands were free.

 

He wiggled his fingers for a moment, then brought his hands up to cradle Albus’s face. He tenderly moved the long, pale fingers over Albus’s cheekbones, then cupped both cheeks in his hands and brought the other boy’s face down to his for a tender kiss. Their mouths brushed lightly together, their warm breath stirring the air between their slightly-parted lips. When they drew apart, Scorpius looked almost-sleepy; the desperate, needy passion of a few minutes earlier had melted into a slow, hot need now that he could actively participate (not to mention _speak_ ).

 

“I still can’t believe you want me…” Albus looked torn between confusion and elation over this fact. “I can’t believe I didn’t _know_ you wanted me.”

 

Scorpius mock-scowled up at his best friend and said coolly. “Yes, well. Perhaps, Allie, if you weren’t an egotistical, self-centered _prat_ you would have noticed some things.” When green eyes widened in shock, Scorpius added cheekily. “Like you’d notice, for instance, that I am currently naked and hard and have your cock up my arse. And then, having noticed such a thing, perhaps you might get on with actually shagging me properly.”

 

Albus flushed, then withdrew slightly before pushing back into Scorpius’s body. When Scorpius whimpered, Albus leaned down and purred into his ear. “You mean like that, Pi?”

 

Scorpius nodded and Albus began to thrust, slowly and steadily in and out of the tight, hot body beneath him. The blonde slid his arms around Albus’s waist, dragged his nails up his sweat-slicked back, and then clutched almost desperately at his shoulders. Albus, for his part, was doing his best to focus on something _other_ than the delicious little whimpers Scorpius kept making or the hot, velvety heat surrounding his cock. He didn’t want to come before Scorpius; he didn’t want to disappoint his new lover. He wanted to make sure Scorpius enjoyed this so much that he’d never even _look_ at anyone else.

 

With that goal firmly in his mind, he started adjusting the angle of his hips. Though he knew Scorpius was a virgin (because despite his earlier bout of rage, he didn’t think his friend would have sex with James – or anyone, really – after only two weeks), he himself certainly wasn’t. He’d dated various students from various Houses, of both genders. So he knew that if he could just manage to get the angle right…

 

“Ahhhh!” Scorpius suddenly dug his nails into Albus’s shoulders. His back bowed off the bed, his head fell back to expose his throat, his eyes rolled up into his head, and his cock jumped between their bodies.

 

As Albus stilled, his cock buried deep inside Scorpius, the smaller teen slumped back onto the mattress, panting heavily. With wide, glazed-over eyes boring into deep green, Scorpius asked breathlessly. “What was _that?”_

 

“That, my sweet little Pi, was your prostate.” Albus leaned down to press a light kiss to Scorpius’s mouth, then pulled back to smirk at him. “Want me to hit it again?”

 

“Fuck yes.” Scorpius moaned, shivering just at the thought. “Please, Allie…”

 

Albus happily complied. With each thrust brushing against it, Scorpius dissolved into incoherence fairly quickly. Within the space of 5 thrusts, he began to babble nonsense. After 10 thrusts, he lost the ability to form words at all and was merely making needy sounds. And after 15 thrusts he knew it would only be a matter of moments before he finished. Then, Albus shifted his weight to one hand and slid the other between their bodies. Long, calloused fingers wrapped around his cock and gave two firm strokes and Scorpius threw his head back and screamed.

 

The combination of that scream of pleasure; the hot, wet heat of Scorpius’s body milking him; and the feel of Scorpius’s release coating  his hand and stomach was more than enough to push Albus over the edge as well. With a low groan Albus emptied himself into the smaller boy then collapsed, panting heavily, on top of him.

 

After a few minutes Albus was nearly asleep when he felt a pinch to his side. “Ow…what the hell was _that_ for, Pi?” He whinged, pushing up onto his elbows to stare balefully down at his friend.

 

“You’re crushing me, you big oaf.” Scorpius chided lovingly, a tender smile on his lips. “Plus I’m sticky in a few places.” He pinched Albus’s side again. “Get off, you prat.”

 

“Funny…I thought I just had.” Albus teased, then Scorpius pinched him a third time. “Ow! Vicious little _brat **,**_ that’s what you are! I’m being abused, I am!”

 

But, still laughing, he rolled off to the side and grabbed his wand, casting cleaning charms. Scorpius rolled over onto his side, facing Albus and looking suddenly serious. “Allie…I said I love you before and I want you to know that I meant it. So I…I won’t be some silly little one-off or a fling. I mean it. I’ll fight to keep you now, because you’re _mine_.” His face was set; his soft, breathy voice determined. “ I just…I wanted to let you know that. You’re _mine.”_

 

Albus tugged Scorpius gently into his arms, letting the smaller boy snuggle against his chest. When he’d settled in, his mass of silvery-blonde hair spilling down his back and over Albus’s chest and stomach, Albus said softly. “I love you too, Pi. Have since the first time I saw you at Grandma ‘Romie’s house when we were 9. You were so beautiful…it’s why I asked to learn sign language. I wanted to be able to speak to you. Once I did...” Albus blushed slightly, grateful Scorpius couldn’t see it from his spot on his chest. “I just loved you more. I’m _so_ sorry…”

 

“Hush.” Scorpius’s quiet admonishment cut Albus off. “I’m fully aware of your temper and I deliberately provoked it. I could have done without the ropes, mind you, but I admit that I deliberately faked a relationship with James in the hopes that you’d get jealous enough to try to claim me.” He tipped his head back, silver eyes meeting green, and added softly. “I’m not sorry it happened, because you’ve given me the only two things I’ve ever wanted. My voice…and _you_.” Settling his head back on Albus’s shoulder, he yawned and said. “Now shush and go to sleep. I’m tired.”

 

And tugging his petite lover closer – and with a quiet mental vow to get Scorpius back for the whole James-thing – Albus pressed a soft kiss to white-blonde hair, murmured a quiet _“Night, Pi.”,_ and closed his eyes to go to sleep. Tomorrow they’d tell everyone Scorpius’s could speak; tonight was just about them.


End file.
